Solitaire
by Tsuru-san
Summary: Six months before Amelia is scheduled to arrive for the Awakening, Kraven and Soren have to wait through the daylight hours in Lucian's den. While there, Raze and Soren get to know each other better... SLASH! RazeSoren


**A/N**: Excuse me, while I climb up onto my soapbox. Though I don't see why I bother since my Underworld stories are largely ignored, but anyway, this is only the first half of Solitaire. The second half is (go figure) NC-17. There's a link in my profile for the entire fic.  
  
**Disclaimer**: Do you actually think I own anything? If I did, they'd have gotten some serious action in the movie, and I don't mean fighting. ;)

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Soren had wondered once why humans found solitaire to be such an incredibly interesting card game. Now he wished he'd never asked. It had been one helluva night, and even now the stoic janissary was wishing he were back at Ordoghaz rather than in this lycan hellhole.  
  
_Couldn't they have picked a better base of operations than the sewers?_ he thought venomously.  
  
It was bad enough having to accompany Lord Kraven down here to meet with Lucian, but to be stranded here for an entire day as well?! Sad but true, the last meeting had run late. . .a bit _too_ late. Without enough time to get back to the mansion before sunrise, the two vampires had had no other option but to wait out the daylight hours in Lucian's den.  
  
While Kraven had gone to do some more "planning" with the infamous werewolf leader, Soren had decided to hole up in what — by lycan standards — would pass for a sitting or recreation room. A ratty shag carpet lay over the central area of the floor, and ringed around the somewhat large room was a colony of musty armchairs and couches that had probably migrated to this dismal place over the course of many years. In the middle of the so-called furniture sat an oak coffee table. Taking up residence in one of the less filthy armchairs, Soren had noticed the deck of cards on the crudely varnished surface and decided to find out how many games of solitaire one could play in twelve hours.  
  
So far, the cards had failed to sufficiently distract the vampiric janissary from thoughts of what must surely be going on somewhere within the lycan den. Although Kraven had told Soren that he and Lucian were working out some minute details concerning Lady Amelia's arrival, the impassive nightwalker knew better. With a grimace, Soren bared his fangs viciously. Wasn't he good enough for Kraven? Why did the aristocratic regent have to go running off with every other immortal that crossed his path? It drove Soren insane, but he wouldn't say anything. . .he never did. Patience was a virtue and so was the ability to suffer in silence.  
  
Forcing his attention back to the cards on the table, the vampire figured that this was an ironic way to waste time. Solitaire: a solitary game for a solitary man. It was depressing in a way. _Then again_, he decided, _I guess that's how loneliness is_ supposed _to be._  
  
Soren flipped over another card and rolled his shoulders irritably. As the Awakening drew closer — it was only six months away now — he found himself becoming increasingly more stressed. Between all the extra planning and watching and arranging, the old nightwalker was having a hard time fitting sleep into his schedule, and angels be damned if he would even _consider_ the notion of letting down his guard to sleep in a den of lycans who — for the most part — hated his guts. Soren tilted his shoulders again. This truly was going to be a _long_ day, and it was only eleven o'clock in the morning!  
  
He eventually became so engrossed in his current game that the janissary scarcely managed not to jump out of the chair he was sitting in when a deep voice practically right behind him said, "You look tense."  
  
"Raze," Soren uttered with a soft growl. Was he really so worn out that he didn't even hear the lycan enter the room? "What do you want?"  
  
"Nothing, I was merely curious to know how you're enjoying lycan hospitality."  
  
""Hospitality"?" the vampire sneered, "Hah! Well enough until about ten seconds ago."  
  
Soren started to stand up, but Raze placed his strong hands on the janissary's shoulders to hold him down. If he'd really wanted, the vampire could've made an undignified wiggle out of the lycan's grasp, but really, what was the point? With the alliance between Lucian and Kraven, Raze wouldn't be permitted to actually _do_ anything.  
  
_He's just come here to irritate me_, the janissary thought. Resolving to simply ignore anything Raze had in mind, Soren sat still and prepared himself for whatever the lycan was going to do. Nearly a minute passed in complete silence before Raze's hands shifted on the vampire's shoulders. It took him a particularly long second to realize that the lycan wasn't attempting to strangle him but. . .relax him?!  
  
"What the hell are you —?!" Soren tried to protest, but Raze just cut him off.  
  
"Shh," the black man purred, his rough voice taking on an oddly lyrical quality. "Just _relax_."  
  
For his credit as a vampire, Soren actually tried to get away, but Raze wouldn't allow it. Then again, for a centuries-old warrior, the nightwalker's half-hearted efforts were decidedly pathetic.  
  
"You really _are_ tense," Raze whispered, leaning closer so that his hot breath tickled Soren's ear and sent goosebumps all along his body. As the lycan's hands began to knead the vampire's flesh more firmly though the fabric of his shirt and overcoat, Soren resolved to just go along with it. His body really was quite sore from the abuse it had been getting lately. Certainly letting Raze loosen some of his knotted muscles wouldn't cause a problem, right?  
  
The vampire let out a small sigh as the lycan's sedulous fingers continued to assuage his aching muscles. As he worked, the black man gradually glided the janissary's leather trench coat out of the way so that the one remaining thing between skin on skin contact was Soren's dark grey shirt. Advancing his touches forward with the utmost care, the nightwalker didn't even have a chance to comprehend what Raze was doing until the werewolf had the top button of Soren's shirt undone. If Raze's hands hadn't been holding him in the armchair, Soren probably would've been on the other side of the room by now.  
  
"Let go _now_, lycan," the janissary snarled softly, his tranquility of a few moments ago completely shattered.  
  
A deep, throaty chuckle was the only answer to his flustered command.  
  
Attempting to regain some measure of self-control, Soren hissed, "Let go of me this instant you, blasphemous cur."  
  
"Or you'll do what?" Raze scoffed. "Besides," and he ran his nails lightly along the vampire's collar in a gesture that made him inhale sharply, "do you really _want_ me to stop?"  
  
_Hell, no_, Soren thought. This was the first bit of peace he'd had in days, and he definitely did not want it to stop, but this was going way too far!  
  
However, Raze seemed to read his mind as he replied confidently, "I thought so."  
  
The black lycan's fingers deftly undid two more buttons, and Soren had to stop himself from tensing on pure reflex.  
  
_This really isn't anything that out of line_, the vampire tried to reassure himself.  
  
Then the charcoal shirt slid back a little exposing Soren's creamy-white shoulders and pale collar. The lycan's fingers on his bare flesh sent shivers through him. And once again, the janissary was reminded of his vulnerability in this confrontation. It almost made him move away. . ._almost_.  
  
With his thumbs, Raze pressed against an extremely uncomfortable knot of anxiety at the base of the vampire's neck causing him to gasp in relief and arch his head back, unwittingly exposing his throat. Soren had no idea how much the lycan touching him had longed for this moment. Had the nightwalker possessed a werewolf's sense of smell, he might have noticed Raze's growing arousal, but since he didn't, Soren most likely wasn't aware of how far the lycan intended this encounter to go.  
  
The janissary was scarcely able to stop himself from trembling as Raze's supple fingers abandoned his shoulders to massage his neck before slipping lower to his chest. The aching desire in his groin alerted Soren that this was getting out of hand, and behind him Raze had to restrain a triumphant chuckle as the vampire slowly but surely began to lose control.  
  
Soren's tongue flicked out to wet his lips as Raze's hands crept even farther down his chest. The entire situation was horribly improper — what if someone walked in? — but the janissary could hardly bring himself to make the lycan stop his particularly helpful ministrations. Raze's strong fingers stroking down the front of his chest only seemed to drive Soren farther from verbal coherency anyways.  
  
However, the lycan eventually removed his hands from beneath Soren's shirt, giving the flushed vampire a chance to catch his breath. When he felt the pressure of Raze's hands leave him altogether, Soren turned around to awkwardly thank him and then demand an explanation, but before he could speak, Raze's warm lips caught his in a kiss.  
  
The vampire's mind was reeling. A lycan — Raze, in fact — was kissing him?! Soren's frazzled brain still hadn't finished processing that overwhelming fact even after Raze pulled him over the back of the chair and into his arms. The janissary stood rigidly, completely rooted to the spot as the dark-skinned lycan held him, but when Raze's tongue touched his lips, Soren jerked away and took a good five steps back.  
  
The look of incredulous shock and horror wasn't exactly the reaction Raze had been going for, and the black man began to second-guess himself on the wisdom of his decision especially when the mortified vampire partially recovered the ability to speak.  
  
"What the hell are you —? What's the meaning of —?!" the janissary sputtered gracelessly. "Why would you even be interested —?!"  
  
"Because you entice me," Raze answered cutting him off. "I want to feel you from the inside and have you beg me not to stop," The werewolf's voice had taken on a husky quality since he'd last spoken, "and because — dammit — Kraven just does not deserve you."  
  
"How would _you_ know?" Soren snapped, at once on the defense for the sake of the aristocratic regent.  
  
"He doesn't love you," Raze stated calmly.  
  
Soren winced inwardly as the lycan's answer hit home, but instead of showing it, he replied sarcastically, "I'm well-aware of that, but thank you — so _very_ much — for pointing it out."  
  
"You should find someone who at least respects you." Raze suggested as he stepped forward, and Soren instinctively moved back. "What the hell do you see in him anyway? _I_ could love you better. Kraven hardly appreciates your loyalty and doesn't even notice your love."  
  
As the lycan spoke, he had continued to walk forward while Soren backed away. Now with a slight thump the janissary found himself standing against the rough cement wall with no other place to run to. Raze, of course, kept moving forward.  
  
"You never know," the lycan purred, mere centimeters from the vampire's face, "you might actually enjoy it."  
  
Raze closed the gap between them by cupping Soren's face and tilting the nightwalker's head up. This time when the werewolf's lips locked with his, the janissary didn't stop it. . .he didn't _respond_, but he definitely didn't stop. Then Raze's tongue parted Soren's lips and the vampire felt himself returning the kiss, the lycan's hot tongue and mouth tempting him to go further. Hesitantly, Soren reached up to grip Raze's shoulders as the black man pressed him into the wall. With their bodies melded so closely together, Soren could feel Raze's arousal against his own, a sensation which only served to make the vampire harder. Seeking to proceed to the next step, the lycan's powerful hands moved to unbutton the rest of the vampire's shirt and remove it.  
  
"Wait," Soren said breaking the kiss and grasping Raze's wrist to stop the lycan from undressing him further.  
  
"Having second thoughts?" Raze asked coolly, steeling himself for an abrupt rejection.  
  
But the nightwalker had no intention, whatsoever, of doing _that_. It was a new thing to have someone actually want _him_. In his less-than-a-handful of relationships, Soren had always been the one to take the initiative. Although his introverted personality had never helped in ventures of the romantic sort, the vampire had been seriously wondering if there was something wrong with him. How ironic to unknowingly win the affections of one who _should_ be your enemy.  
  
Mentally making his choice, the vampiric janissary replied. "No, I want to do this. . .but not here." 

. . . . . . . . .tbc  
  
A/N: In case you didn't see it in the top of the page, no, that's not the end. However, according to it is, because NC-17 material's not allowed. But if you like this fic and want to read the rest (aka where they go off and have sex) there is a link in my profile labeled "Solitaire". It'll take you to the whole unedited story.


End file.
